Past Rewritten
by TheAngelT'hy'la
Summary: Dean finally tells Cas about the Mark of Cain which causes Cas to pray for help. Cas is sent back in time to protect his friends. Will they end back up in the life and if so, will they survive it? Guardian!Cas and Young!Dean Mostly okay for younger viewers but a few disturbing thoughts and images.
1. Past Rewritten

"Carry on my wayward son,

There'll be peace when you are done.

Lay your weary head to rest,

don't you cry no more."

-Kansas

* * *

Castiel stared at Dean, trying to understand the information he'd just been given.

"Dean..." He croaked. What was he going to say? What _could _he say? Dean had just told him that he had the Mark of Cain. There's nothing you can say to that.

Cas felt a tear roll down his cheek. He knew there was nothing he could do.

"I know, Cas. I know." Dean closed his eyes and sighed.

"Why?" Cas struggled to push the sound through his lips. "Why would you do something like that? After all that's happened."

Dean sat down on the hood of the Impala, on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.

"I- I don't know, man. I thought-" Dean opened his eyes and stared straight at Cas. "I thought I could end it once and for all."

Cas sat next to the broken man and clasped his hands together.

"Please tell me you knew." Cas felt his voice shaking.

Dean nodded but didn't say anything as he ran a hand through his hair.

The two sat silently, staring out at the endless road in front of them.

"I wish," Dean started. "I wish things could've been different."

Cas nodded his head in agreement. He looked at the stars and remembered how he and the boys used to sit on the hood of the Impala and just stare silently at the stars. _Better days, _he thought.

Cas looked at Dean and tried to smile. "I promise you that I will fix this."

Dean opened his mouth to argue but Cas had already "zapped" away.

"I wish you could, Cas." Dean slid off the car and onto the ground before looking up at the sky again. "I really wish you could."

* * *

The church Castiel had taken himself to was dark and empty, but he didn't mind. It was exactly what he needed right then.

Cas walked up to the altar and knelt, hands clasping on the way down.

"Please..." Cas closed his eyes and slumped, hands falling into his lap half-clasped. "Please, just this once..." He looked up at the crucifix on the wall. "Help me."

He closed his eyes again and felt a rush of air and suddenly felt warm sun on his face.

Cas opened his eyes and tilted his head, eyes squinted at the sight before him.

Cas stood on a cliff that overlooked an ocean, sun warm and breeze softly bringing in the sea air. And seated on the edge of the cliff, his back to Castiel, was Chuck Shirley.

"Hello, Castiel." Chuck said, not looking back at the angel.

Cas looked at the man, squinting even harder.

"You gonna join me or what?" Chuck looked over his shoulder and smirked.

Cas tentatively walked forwards and slowly sat down with his legs hanging off like Chuck's.

"I should've known..." He grumbled, shaking his head.

Chuck laughed, deep but still with a hint of sadness. "Yeah, you should've."

He looked at Cas, his smile cracking. "You said you wanted help, Cas."

"I-" Cas looked at his hands, clasped together in his lap and sighed. "I just want them to be happy."

"Me, too." Chuck said simply.

Cas looked at him and frowned. _Why would he do all this if he wanted them happy._

"Don't ask stupid questions." Chuck answered, seemingly reading his mind. "Just listen."

Cas shifted in his seat and looked intently at the man.

"I have a job for you."

* * *

**_Lawrence, Kansas, November 2, 1983  
_**

Mary Winchester woke to hearing her 4 year old screaming.

She quickly pulled on her robe, glancing at the clock that glowed "2:37" before running into the hall and through his door, flipping on the light as she went.

Little Dean was curled up as close to the wall as he could, crying and screaming.

"It's okay, it's okay. Shhh." Mary pulled her son into her lap and held him as he whimpered. "It was just a dream."

Mary heard her husband run up the stairs and the small *thump* of him catching onto the door frame.

"Is he okay?" John asked, catching his breath.

Mary just nodded as Dean started to mutter into her robe. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"M-m-me and S-s-sammy," he choked out in sobs. "We w-w-were in trouble and..." Dean looked up at his mother, still clutching her robe in both hands. "There was an angel watching over us. Just like you said."

Mary looked into son's wide, green eyes and smiled.

"What did he look like?" She whispered, conspiratorially.

"I'm gonna go check on Sam." John smiled and left so they could have their privacy.

"He was tall with blue eyes and he wore a trenchcoat!" Dean bounced up and down on his mother's lap, all fears forgotten.

Mary furrowed her brows. "Trenchcoat?"

Dean nodded excitedly. "Yeah, and he said he'd fix it."

"Fix what?" Mary tried to still her voice and push the memories of her past from her mind. _Please let it just be a dream._

Dean tilted his head. "I don't remember. But... It scared me." He yawned and rubbed his eyes with his fists.

Mary held him close and stood before laying him back in his bed and covering him with his blankets.

"Well, it doesn't have to scare you anymore." She said, kissing his forehead and walking to the door.

"I love you, mommy." Dean mumbled sleepily.

"I love you, too." She flipped the lightswitch back down, smiling.

And just as she was turning her head, she thought she caught a glimpse of the angel Dean had described coming out of the corner and sitting on the chair at the end of Dean's bed. But as soon as she looked back, he was gone.

She walked down the hall to Sammy's nursery, shaking her head as if to clear it of the memories.

* * *

**_Johns Hopkins University, 22 Years Later  
_**

Dean Winchester had grown up seeing that angel everywhere he went. At the park, at school, at the church his mother took him to every Sunday when he was growing up, even at his High School graduation. But only when he was nervous or afraid or sad. And no one else ever saw him.

He would sometimes wake up at night from a nightmare and see him sitting on a chair or standing in the corner and smiling at him. Once in a while he would even whisper: "Go back to sleep. I'll watch over you."

As Dean got older, he began to think that the man wasn't real but instead was just something his imagination cooked up stemming from what his mother told him every night. "Angels are watching over you."

Walking across the university campus, Dean smiled at his childish thoughts. Angels weren't real, just a story his mother told him to help him sleep. And he hadn't seen the trenchcoat-clad man since before he left home for college.

His thoughts turned to his family: His brother was still in High School when Dean had been offered a full ride through Johns Hopkins, but now "little" Sammy was at the University of Michigan with a scholarship for their Automotive Engineering program where he'd met his girlfriend, Jess Moore, who had switched schools from Stanford.  
Dean's father, John, still owned that old shop with his friend and was planning on retiring when Sam graduated and could take over for him.  
And his mother, Mary. Dean had always gotten calls and letters from her while he was in school telling him how proud she was and how much she missed him. She was still that loving mother he'd always had and she'd only grown more beautiful with age. "Like fine wine," his father had said.

Dean had come to Johns Hopkins to be a surgeon but he'd switched professions for neonatologist after he'd learned how much he loved children and how comfortable they were with him.

The future looked bright, for everyone. But Dean still felt like he was missing something.

He couldn't place it, but he had a hole that he couldn't fill.

Dean's thoughts were interrupted by a scream that was quickly silenced by a growl of some sort.

Dean found himself suddenly racing towards the sound and into an alley where he found a man on the ground, his throat all but gone.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and he spun around to see the man in the trenchcoat.

"You just couldn't stay away from hunting, could you?" The man smirked slightly.


	2. Dreams or Reality

_"My greatest enemy is reality."_

_-Margaret Anderson_

* * *

_Dean screamed through his gag and pulled at the chains that held his arms and legs outstretched._

_"Aw, poor baby." A gravelly voice taunted. "Couldn't even protect his brother without screwing up." The voice laughed mockingly._

_Dean whimpered, unknowingly. "Please..." he croaked through the gag with a dry voice._

_The voice laughed again, sounding like it had claws that were scratching the rock walls._

_"What are you afraid of, Dean?" The monster hissed, suddenly next to his ear._

_The captive tried to turn towards the demon, but his neck was fractured in too many places to do anything but hang limply._

_He heard the clink of a knife being picked up and he began to cry. _Please, God, not again_, he prayed silently._

_The figure was suddenly standing above him. Dean flinched at what could only be the monster's face._

_"How about we take this off?" He ripped off the gag, causing Dean to gasp in pain which in turn made Alastair cackle._

_"Let's start off on the right foot, shall we?" He sang before plunging the dagger into Dean's abdomen._

* * *

**August 16, 1989**

Dean burst awake, his screams silenced by fear.

He whipped his head around, eyes wide and searching for the monster from his dreams but all he saw was the shadow of the trenchcoat-clad man in the corner.

"Are you alright, Dean?" he asked from the darkness, his voice low and rumbling but caring.

Dean tried to slow his breathing and shook his head. "No, I..." He pulled his knees up and burried his face in them, sobbing.

Castiel walked out of the shadows and sat next to Dean, taking the boy into an embrace.

"I'm right here. Nothing's going to hurt you." _Never again, _he thought. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Dean nodded, still curled with his face in his knees.

Cas released the boy but kept one arm on his shoulder and tried to smile an encouragement to him.

"I dreamed..." Dean looked up at the angel and shook his head, tears still streaking his cheeks. "I don't really know what I dreamed."

"Try to describe it." Cas encouraged.

"I was in a dungeon, like in those stories I read to Sammy," he whispered, staring at the wall. "But I was older. And there was..." Dean stopped midsentence, burying his face in his knees again and shaking.

Cas visibly tensed, fearing what he already knew Dean was going to say next.

"I couldn't move," Dean sobbed. "And it hurt so bad..."

_No, he's ten years old! He shouldn't be remembering Hell! _Cas pulled Dean in tighter with the one arm around him.

"It's okay. It was just a dream." Cas tried to sound calm but he knew his voice trembled.

Dean leaned into Castiel's chest and silently wept.

After a few minutes Dean pulled away and wiped his tears away, clearing his throat to compose himself.

Cas looked at his charge, so young yet so grown, and he sighed. _You're never going to be normal, are you?_

The comrades heard the doorknob turn and Cas disappeared just as the door opened.

"Dean, who're you talking to?" Mary stuck her head through the door, her face questioning.

"The angel." Dean explained as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Mary frowned slightly but quickly masked it with a smile. "Alright... Go back to sleep, okay?"

She closed the door again and Dean could hear his father's voice in the hall: "He still talking to that 'angel'?" he grunted.

"Yeah..." Mary sighed. "I didn't mean for it to go this far. It was a harmless thing to tell him growing up."

"Harmless?" John hissed. "Harmless? The kid's lost it! He's seeing this thing everywhere he goes now!"

Dean didn't hear anything for a minute or so until his father sighed.

"I think we may need to get help."

"John!" Mary snapped.

"Well, what else are we supposed to do?" John responded, struggling to keep his voice low. "Our son is hallucinating. At first, it was kind of cute for him to have an imaginary friend but now... It's not normal, Mary."

Dean looked around for his friend, willing him to appear, but to no avail.

"I know." Dean heard his mother say.

Dean curled up in his blankets and forced himself not to cry.

They wanted a normal son and Dean was determined to give it to them.

* * *

**The Next Morning...**

Dean sat at the table, re-checking his homework and eating his cereal.

Castiel waited until Sammy had left to go help his mother in the kitchen and then sat across from Dean and revealing himself.

"Are you ready for the pop quiz, today?" Cas asked, cheerily.

Dean hid his face behind his papers and refused to look at Cas.

"Dean?" Cas' smile dropped. "Dean, is something wrong?" Cas pushed the papers down, forcing the child to look at him. "Dean. What's the matter?"

"Go away." Dean responded.

"Did you say something?" Mary stuck her head in.

"No, ma'am." Dean replied, a plastered smile on his face as he adjusted his papers.

Mary smiled and returned to the kitchen.

"Dean, does your ignoring me have anything to do with what your parents were saying last night?" Cas looked at Dean sadly.

"Mom and dad want a normal kid." Dean kept his eyes on his papers, jaw set firm. "Talking to something that isn't real isn't normal."

Cas felt like he'd just been punched in the gut.

"Alright," he swallowed. "If it makes you uncomfortable talking to me, then you don't have to."

Castiel leaned forward and pulled Dean's papers back down so he could see directly into the boy's eyes.

"Just remember one thing: I will _always _be here to listen, whether you want to talk or not." he stated firmly before disappearing from Dean's view.

Dean swallowed and tried to concentrate on his papers and not on the fact that he'd just pushed away his best friend.


	3. Not Hunter but Healer

"A baby is God's opinion that the world should go on."

-Carl Sandburg

* * *

**December 19, 2002**

Dean walked through the halls of the NICU carrying two cups of coffee.

The sounds that wafted through the air made him smile sadly. So much sadness here, but in the end it was almost always smiles and laughter as the parents took their children home.

Dean turned into one of the rooms where a mother and father were seated and staring intently at the incubator with their daughter inside, breathing slowly but steadily.

Not 24 hours prior, the infant had stopped breathing and they'd been forced to insert a nasal cannula. The parents were staying calm, which wasn't easy to do, and Dean was inspired by them.  
Dean had seen parents leave to get lunch, their child sleeping soundly and in perfect health, and by the time they got back, the baby would be dead. That was cause for any parent to be afraid.

"May I come in?" he asked quietly.

The father nodded but the mother didn't seem to notice.

"I brought coffee." Dean handed the two cups to the father. He handed one to his wife, who took it without any reaction.

Dean looked at the little girl and smiled, slightly. She was one strong cookie. _Come on, sweetheart, you can do it._

Dean walked over to the incubator and checked the readouts, writing the seemingly random numbers on her chart.

She was stabilizing.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the parents, whom he'd been very well acquainted with over the past few weeks.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rayzer?" Dean waited until the father acknowledged him. "I'm getting off my shift but if anything happens, I'll be here as soon as possible. Okay?"

The man nodded, attempting to smile slightly.

"She's improving," Dean encouraged, laying a hand on the man's shoulder and squeezing slightly.

He walked out of the room and back down the hall towards the locker room.

"Winchester!" One of the nurses called. "You off?"

"Yeah," Dean turned and answered, walking backwards. "Usual arrangement?"

The nurse, Alex, lifted his hand to show an "Okay" sign.

Dean turned again and went to the locker room to take a shower and change.

Dean half-bounded down the front steps into the hospital before his phone started ringing in his pocket.

"Hey, Mom." He answered after pressing "Answer".

"Hello, sweetie." Mary's sing-song voice came through the speaker.

"What's up?" Dean asked, smiling. His mother called everyday at this exact time, without fail.

"I just wanted to check up on you. How's work?" She inquired, as usual.

"It's good," Dean replied. "The baby I was assigned to is doing a lot better. I think she might be being sent home, soon."

"That's great!" Mary cheered.

"Yeah," Dean smiled.

"Oh, your father wants to talk to you." Mary said as Dean could hear the phone being passed and a gruff voice take over the line: "Hey, kid."

"Hey, Dad." Dean suddenly sounded stiff and formal, his body subconsciously standing at attention. He'd always taken after his mother more than his dad so it was hard to make the elder Winchester proud.

"Your mother's worried you won't get here for Christmas before the storm blows in."

Dean swallowed uneasily. "I'll be there."

"You drivin' or flyin'?"

"Driving." Dean answered succintly. "I thought it'd be better for me to drive up a few days early to help Mom out." He added.

"Why not fly?" John grunted. "It's faster and cheaper." He emphasized the word "cheaper".

"I, um," Dean shuffled embarrassed, even if his dad couldn't see him through the phone.

"Please tell me you're not still scared of _planes_!"

Dean heard his mother say something and take the phone away from her husband.

"Dean, honey? It's fine if you don't want to take a plane, just as long as you get here, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am." Dean responded coldly.

"Dean." Mary stopped. "He didn't mean it the way it sounded."

"Yeah, I know." Dean placated. "Well, I gotta go. I have a lot to do before I leave."

"Okay, well, be careful and try to remember everything." Anyone could catch the motherly instincts seeping from her voice.

"Yes, ma'am." Dean laughed. "I'll see you in a few days."

Dean ended the call and headed back to his apartment.

* * *

**December 20, 2002 6:43am**

Dean was pulled from his book at the breakfast table by his phone buzzing in his pocket.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Dean. You asked me to call if anything changed?" Alex's voice.

"Yeah? What happened?" Dean set his book aside. _Please, oh please, not this one._

"The doc said the Rayzer kid's in such good health, she should be able to go home for Christmas."

Dean slumped in his chair and laughed. "That's great, man. I'll be there in a little bit."

* * *

**8:13am**

Dean walked down the hall, a spring in his step. He turned to the room he often visited and rapped lightly on the door.

"Good morning, Dean." Mr. Rayzer smiled at him, as did the unusually smiley Mrs. Rayzer.

"Morning." Dean stepped in and put his hands in his jean pockets. "I heard somebody was getting out soon and I just wanted to come visit before I got on the road."

"Oh, you're not going to be here?" Mrs. Rayzer sounded disappointed.

"No, ma'am. I have to go visit my family." Dean shrugged an apology.

"Well, before you leave," Mr. Rayzer offered his hand. "Thank you for helping us."

Dean shook his hand. "Any time." He turned to leave.

"Dean," He stopped short and turned at Mrs. Rayzer's call. "Stay safe." She smiled.

Dean smiled and left.

* * *

**December 24, 2002 6:19pm**

The kitchen was covered in mixing bowls and the mother and son were coated in flour from the "flour fight" they'd had a little while ago when Dean's phone buzzed, indicating that he'd been sent a picture.

He wiped his floury hands on a towel and pulled up the picture on his phone.

The picture was of the Rayzer's standing in their own home with their little girl in their arms.

Dean smiled and put his phone back in his pocket.

"Dean! Get in here, you're gonna miss it!" Sam called from the living room, indicating that the Winchester family tradition of watching "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" wasn't going to wait for him.

_Yeah, _Dean thought to himself. _It's going to be a great Christmas._


	4. Fate

"There is no good arguing with the inevitable."

-James Russell Lowell

* * *

**Johns Hopkins University, September 17, 2005**

Dean ran back to his apartment, not stopping for anything. As soon as he got to the door (almost running into it) he had his keys out and was scrambling to get it in the lock.

As soon as he stopped shaking, he was through the door and slamming it behind him, latching the locks before he backed into something about his height.

He turned around and backed hard into the door when he saw the man standing behind him.

"What the-?" Dean yelled.

Castiel just stood there, hands in his pockets and head tilted to the side with a slightly amused smirk. "You done running, now?"

"This can't be happening," Dean muttered as he pushed past Cas towards the bathroom.

"Dean, I understand it's jarring to see me, but I _am _real." Cas said following him.

Dean pulled a pill bottle out of the cabinet and shook out two pills in his hand before popping them into his mouth and swallowing without water.

"Dean," Cas sighed. "You don't have to take those."

Dean slid to the floor and leaned against the door jamb. "You're not real. All I have to do is wait for the Zyprexa to kick in and you'll be gone." He closed his eyes tightly, as if he could will Cas away.

"Look," Cas knelt next to the man. "Whether you want me here or not, you just saw something I've been trying to protect you from so you're stuck with me."

Dean opened his eyes and looked directly into Cas', jaw set firm.

"Well," the angel sighed. "At least you're not stabbing me, this time."

Cas rolled back on his heels and sat, crossing his legs and waiting for the other man to speak.

"If..." Dean hesitated, his gaze falling to the floor in front of him. "If you're real, then..." Dean closed his eyes hid his face in his knees, just like he used to when he was a kid.

"Then the body was real, too?" Cas finished for him.

Dean nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Cas hesitated before answering. "Yeah. I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean lifted his head again and looked warily at Cas. "So... What- Who _are_ you?"

Cas sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, this isn't going to be easy for you to understand but I need you to listen." He clasped both of his together.

Dean nodded and stretched out his legs. "Okay."

"Firstly you need to understand that the body you found today was killed by a vampire." Cas ignored the incredulous look Dean gave him. "There are people known as Hunters that go after them and other monsters like them and you," he gestured to Dean. "Were once one of them."

"No, I haven't" Dean insisted.

"Not in this time," Cas explained. "You see, I'm actually from the year 2014. I protected you and your brother for 6 years until..." Cas stopped and took a breathe, shuddering. "Until I couldn't do anything."

Castiel continued to explain who they all were in the future, how he and his brother were great protectors and heroes, but that they couldn't keep living like that and how Dean had taken on the Mark of Cain.

"I couldn't change it so I did the only thing left: I prayed." Cas sighed. "I was sent back here to make sure you had a chance."

Dean looked down at his hands in his lap. "Why would you give up Heaven for me?"

"Some things never change, do they?" Cas muttered. "You still don't think you deserve to be saved."

Dean looked at him quizically.

"You've asked me that many times," Cas explained. "And the reason stays the same: You and Sam are the best humans, no, beings I have ever met and I would die fighting by your side."

Dean continued to stare at the floor for a few minutes until he suddenly looked at Cas, a determined glint in his eyes: "Teach me."

Cas just blinked at Dean. "What?"

"Teach me," Dean repeated. "Teach me how to be a hunter."

"Dean," Cas stood up and walked into the small living room, rubbing the nape of his neck. "I came back here to make sure you lived a better life," Cas turned to face Dean, who had followed him. "Not teach you how to throw it away."

"Cas," Dean commanded. "You tell me that there are monsters out there hurting innocent people and that I have the ability to save them and expect me not to do something? Well, I don't know about how the future hero me would say, but I'm not gonna just stay quiet."

Cas looked at Dean and smiled. "That's exactly what he'd say."


	5. Study to show thyself approved

Note from the Author:

I apologize for this chapter being a bit slow but the information in here is kinda important.  
And please leave a review, if you can. It's really helpful so I can learn from whatever mistakes I make.

* * *

"Knowledge is power."

* * *

**US-36, Kansas September 25, 2005**

"I just need some time off, Mom," Dean spoke into the phone while attempting to keep one eye on the road.

"Yes, I know that but why would you throw away your scholarship? I know how much it meant to you." Mary responded with no anger in her voice. "Baby, is there something you need to tell me?"

Dean sighed. He knew he couldn't tell her the truth. _Yeah, I'm on my way to the outskirts of Lebanon, Kansas to meet with a real life angel who's gonna teach me how to kill monsters._

"No, ma'am. I just need some space," he lied.

"Can't you at least tell me where you're going?" his mother begged.

"Mom," Dean tried not to whine. "I promise to call you every day. Okay?"

Mary was silent for a moment. "Every day, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am." Dean tried to sound normal even though he was scared out of his mind.

"I love you," Mary said quietly.

Dean knew his mother was worried. "I love you, too," he replied, trying to reassure her that he was okay.

Dean pulled up outside of what looked like a bomb shelter set in the side of a hill. He looked down at the map Cas had marked the route he should take on and looked back at the door in the side of the hill.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean jumped in his seat when he heard Cas right outside his door. "Geez, Cas! Don't _do _that!"

Cas chuckled. "My apologies."

Dean opened his door and stepped out. "So what is this place, anyway?" He asked, looking around as he reached into the backseat to grab his duffel bag.

"This is actually all yours." Cas pulled a rectangular box with strange markings out of his pocket and walked up to the door. "Your paternal grandfather was the last survivor of a secret society called the 'Men of Letters' who were dedicated to the study of the supernatural and the protection of the unsuspecting public. As the sole survivor of the massacre, everything that belonged to them belongs to him and his descendants."

Dean ran after Cas. "Wait, the dude that ditched my dad as a kid?"

"Actually," Cas corrected while opening the box and producing a key. "Henry Winchester was accidentally transported to the future when he created a portal rather hurriedly to escape Abaddon. He should be here in a few years." Cas unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Dean's surprise at the news that his grandfather _didn't _abandon his family was quickly overtaken by the awe of what he saw when he entered the door.

What Cas described as "The Bunker" was at first glance an enormous room with a stairway leading from the door down to the floor, floor to ceiling and wall to wall shelves of books in every language known to man (and some unknown) and halls leading to who knows where.

"Wow..." was all Dean could utter.

Castiel laughed and started down the stairs, Dean following close behind.

"Come on, I'll give you the tour before you settle in for the night."

Dean set his duffel on the bed and began to pull his clothes out and place them neatly in the dresser.

_Not bad digs for an angel. _Dean looked around his room and, despite the sparseness and blandness, it was actually very welcoming.

A bed sat in the middle of the back wall, headboard against the wall, and an end table on either side, lamps on both, a dresser on the right and small closet on the left wall.

Dean finished with his clothes and pulled out a few books from the bottom, which he set on the desk before pulling out the picture frame that was carefully packed in the side pocket of the bag.

Dean set it on the night stand and pushed the duffel underneath the bed before stopped and looked at the picture for a moment. It was from last Christmas where Mary had made everyone sit on the couch so she could set the timer on the camera and get a picture of everyone together. Everyone was smiling, even John, but especially Sam with Jess next to him.

Dean sighed, peeling off his many layers (which he never knew why he wore, he just did) and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a tshirt before collapsing face-first onto the bed. It had been a long day.

**The Bunker, The Next Morning**

Dean was woken by someone shaking him.

"5 more minutes, Sammy." He mumbled into his blankets.

The shaking continued a bit rougher. "Dean, it's time to get up."

Dean lifted his head so he could turn it and look at the disturber of his slumber.

"Cas?" He rubbed his eyes sleepily and rolled onto his side.

"Come on, get breakfast so we can start. Long day ahead of us." Cas said smacking Dean's feet (which he had forgotten to unshoe) and walking out.

Dean half rolled, half crawled off the bed and slowly stood, stretching before stumbling out into the hall and towards the kitchen.

Castiel definitely knew what he was doing when getting groceries because every cabinet in the kitchen was filled with all the ingredients to Dean's favorite foods.

Dean wandered over to the fridge and pulled down a box of cereal from the top and rummaged in the fridge for the milk, still trying to see through the last vestiges of sleep.

Cas walked through the door just as Dean was sitting down at the island in the middle of the kitchen to eat with a large stack of books.

_The Hunter's Guide to Ghosts, The Diary of Samuel Colt, Encyclopedia of Monsters and Demons by Theodore Roosevelt _and _The Complete History of the Men of Letters_, to name a few.

"Start reading," he dictated, setting the stack on the table in front of Dean.

_This is gonna be a long day, _Dean mused.


	6. Hangover

_Author's Note_

_Hi, so I worked really hard on this chapter and really had some trouble with it. _

_In my country, I'm under the legal drinking age and, since I don't want to get  
in any trouble, I've never been able to get a hangover to understand  
firsthand the effects. Thanks to my mom for explaining that it's  
like a migraine with a bad taste in your mouth._

_As always, your opinions and suggestions are always welcome!_

* * *

**The Bunker, September 27, 2005**

Dean sat at one of the tables, poring over the books Castiel had given him. The books were spread all over the table, open to various pages with others dog-eared.

Cas strolled into the room, hands in his pocket a smirk on his face.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"Hm?" Dean looked up, pen sticking out from between his lips.

Cas reached over and took the pen and laid it aside before yanking the younger man to his feet.

"Come on." He pulled Dean towards the door.

"Where're we going?" Dean asked as he pulled his coat off a chair and shrugged into it.

"To relax."

* * *

The bartender set yet another round of beers Cas had ordered in front of them and popped off the caps as _Don't Fear the Reaper _played from the bar's speakers.

Cas glanced up briefly and chuckled before taking a swig of his drink.

"What's so funny?" Dean asked, trying hard not to slur.

"_Don't Fear the Reaper. _It's not really funny but you, or rather the you that would've been, was kinda friends with Death."

Dean almost spat out his beer.

"Friends? With _the _Grim Reaper?" Dean sputtered, incredulous.

"More like unlikely allies but yeah."

Dean held his gaze on the bottle between his hands.

Castiel was surprised at his Dean he remembered would've just blinked and shrugged off information like this. But this wasn't the Dean he remembered; this was the young man whom the angel had saved when he was a little boy and, consequently, hadn't gone through the same things, good and bad.

Castiel would have to remember that, better.

"Thanks," Dean interrupted the angel's thoughts. "For everything."

Cas smiled and held up his beer in answer before taking a swig.

* * *

The bunker door opened and smacked against the wall with a bang.

Dean groaned and lifted a hand to his head while the other arm hung around Cas' shoulders.

"You're such a lightweight," Cas laughed quietly as he led Dean down the stairs and towards the bedrooms.

"Yeah, well, I never really had the occasion to drink," Dean slurred, stumbling and struggling to stay upright.

"I dunno, I remember one weekend your senior year of high school that was quite memorable."

"Oh, please tell me you weren't there?" Dean groaned.

"Who do you think made sure you didn't get sharpied when you passed out; or worse?" Cas nudged open Dean's door and awkwardly laid him on the bed.

"Well, thanks, I guess." Dean closed his eyes and nuzzled his face into the pillow.

* * *

Cas slumped in the chair that Dean had been in earlier that day and sighed. He rubbed his eyes before leaning over the books, still left open, and scanning them.

The thick, leather bound book in the center was opened to a page with a gruesome drawing of a Wendigo attack and writing that Cas recognized as Lakota underneath.

To the left side was another book, barely tucked underneath the larger, that appeared to be a Lakota dictionary and to the right was a notepad with Dean's med student scrawl detailing Dean's theory of forced mutation.

Cas' mouth twitched upwards. His Dean really was a genius. No other hunter had actually taken the time to figure out _why_ these creatures existed; neither had the Men of Letters.

But Dean wasn't like everyone else. He was unique.

* * *

**The next morning...**

Dean woke to a pounding in his skull, like that of a bass drum but deeper and reverberated through his teeth.

And speaking of teeth, his mouth felt like he'd been sucking on a ball of cotton but tasted of feet.

The young man attempted to open his eyes but even the dark of the windowless room was too bright.

He struggled out from under the blanket and rubbed his face, carefully kneading at his eyes before blinking a few times and standing. He stumbled a moment but soon caught his balance.

* * *

Cas dropped the antacid in the glass of juice and set it on the counter as he went back to the stove.

A shuffling came from down the hall and he looked up to see Dean lean against the door jamb and rub the back of his neck.

"Hello, Dean."

"Mornin', Cas." Dean yawned.

Castiel turned back to the stove and turned off the burner before ladling some of the oatmeal into two bowls.

"Sleep well?" he inquired, pulling two plates out and setting the bowls in the middle of them, placing apple slices and grapes around the outside edges.

Dean just grunted in response and winced at the clank that erupted from the spoons Cas sat on the plates.

Castiel chuckled as he picked the plates up and moved them to the table in the dining room.

"That'll help with the hangover," he said, motioning for Dean to join him.

Dean meandered over and sat down.

Cas grinned and Dean couldn't help but return it before lifting a spoonful of oatmeal to his lips.

But before he could take a bite, a shrill ringing came from his pocket.

Dean's eyes widened.

"Oh, crap."

* * *

_End Notes_

_I'm moving and I'm not sure when I'll get internet back but I'm hoping  
to have the next chapter up before then.  
_

_Please send in your opinions and suggestions for the stories progression,  
since I honestly don't know exactly what I'm planning._

_Remember: this is sort of an AU. Anything could happen!_


	7. Road Trip

_Author's Note  
_

_So, I had internet for a few more days (YAY!) and  
finished the next chapter a lot quicker than I expected so  
here's the answer to that crappy cliffhanger  
_

* * *

**September 28, 2005**  
Dean dropped his spoon and dug his phone out of his jeans.  
"Hey, mom. I know I forgot to call last night, I'm so, so sorry." Dean rushed out as soon as the phone was next to his ear.  
Cas frowned but Dean just shook his head.  
"Are you okay?" Mary's voice came through the line, obviously shaken and sleepless. "What happened?"  
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just went out for drinks with a friend and we stayed out a little later than I expected." The young man did his best to sooth his mother's worries.  
"What friend? Do I know them?"  
Dean tried not to laugh. He knew she was worried.

* * *

At Mary's worried tone (which he had heard only because of his angel hearing, not because he was eavesdropping) Cas held his hand out for the phone.  
"Here, let me speak to her."  
Dean raised an eyebrow but complied: "Mom, would speaking to him make you feel better?"  
Castiel heard her sigh quietly. "Yeah, put him on."  
The angel took the phone from Dean and put it up to his ear.  
"Good morning, Mrs. Winchester. My name is Castiel."  
"Alright, who are you and what have you done to me son?" The venom in the woman's voice reminded Cas of Dean's dealings with Zachariah.  
"I am of no danger to Dean or the rest of your family," Castiel tried to placate her. "Your son came upon a vamp killing and was in danger. I stepped in and sent him to meet me in a safe house, which you are more than welcome to visit."  
Castiel looked up and saw Dean staring at him, horrified.  
"Don't worry. It's fine," Cas mouthed silently.  
"No," Mary continued. "You bring him here. In one piece."  
"Fair enough," he agreed. "Any good hunter would know not to rush into a possible trap."  
Dean's head shot up and his eyes widened.  
"How did you know about that?" Mary's voice shook. With fear or anger, Cas didn't know.  
"I'll explain when we get there." Cas hung up before she could respond and tossed the phone back to Dean.  
"What the heck, dude?" Dean yelled, standing with enough force to knock his chair over. "I thought we weren't supposed to tell people what we do?"  
Cas sighed. "Okay, long story short? Your mother is one of the Campbells, a family of hunters that dates back far enough to be hunting vamps on the Mayflower. She stopped hunting to make sure you and your brother grew up normal."  
Dean's mouth opened and closed a few times, as if to say something, and shut after a moment, his eyes still huge.  
"Eat your breakfast," Cas ordered and stood. "Then go get ready to leave. Your mother wants to see you."

* * *

**An hour or so later, on the highway**  
Dean sang and drummed his hands on the wheel in time to "Ramble On" in the front seat of the Impala.  
Cas, who sat shotgun, shook his head and laughed.  
"What?" Dean grinned at his friend.  
"Nothing," Cas muttered with a grin of his own, as he continued to stare out the window.  
Dean turned back to the road and resumed his drummed but toned down to a quiet humming.  
After a few minutes, Cas reached into his pocket with a small exclamation and retrieved a small, bronze amulet on a black cord.  
"I've been meaning to give this to you," he held it out to Dean.  
The younger man took it and rolled it around between his fingers a few times, studying it.  
_Why is this so familiar?_  
"What is it?" He drew his eyebrows together. "I've honestly never seen it before, man."  
Cas smiled but there was a sadness in his eyes.  
"It, um, belonged to the _other_ you," he stuttered. "When you were young, you and your brother were alone on Christmas Eve and he gave it to you. You always kept it close."  
Dean looked at the strange medallion a moment before pulling the string over his head and tucking it into his shirt.  
"Thanks, Cas," he whispered, staring straight at the road.  
The angel looked to the driver. Dean sat with his shoulders hunched and his slightly reddened eyes trained on the road ahead.  
"Dean, are you alright?"  
"I'm fine." Dean shrugged, making Castiel think he'd have to push to get more out of him until he continued. "It's just... Sam and I don't really see eye to eye."  
Castiel kept his face blank but attentive, even though he was elated to see Dean opening up.  
"Sam... Sam's a lot like our dad and they're both..." Dean paused, thinking.  
"Alpha males?" Cas suggested, trying to be helpful.  
"Yeah," Dean nodded, scrunching his eyebrows together and frowned. "They're both so controlling and I'm, as my mom put it, 'more laid back.'"  
The angel nodded.  
"I can see that. You don't like to cause trouble." Castiel struggled to keep his laughter in.  
"Yeah," Dean glanced at Cas. "I always just wanted us to get along but Sam would argue with everything I said." Dean huffed out a laugh. "If I told that kid the sky was blue, he'd disagree with me."  
"Well," Cas frowned thoughtfully. "The sky is actually purple but it looks blue because of the-"  
"It was just an expression, Cas," Dean choked out through a laugh.

* * *

_End Notes_

_I don't know about you, but I'm really stoked to see how Mary  
reacts to Cas being real and not just a figment of Dean's imagination.  
I'm not sure when I'll be back, but I promise I'll keep writing while I'm gone.  
Please comment. You're follows and favorites spur me on but I need criticism  
_


	8. At Least She's Not Stabbing Him?

Chapter 9: At least she's not stabbing him?

**Chapter Notes:**

_It's good to be back! I still don't have internet (and won't for a while) at my house but I have gotten a chance to visit the local library who are gracious enough to allow me to use their wifi._

_I was able to write 3 new chapters since the last time I posted and I apologize that it couldn't be more. Real life has been giving me all sorts of trouble. That may be why these next chapters were dubbed "overly dramatic" by my brother but my fantastic betas (mad-hatter-holicing and alteredsilence on Tumblr) have told me that it's still a good read. Enjoy!_

**Lawrence, Kansas Mid-morning, September 29, 2005**

Dean pulled the car up to the old two-story. He looked out the window and smiled. SO many good memories were made here.

Every family Christmas he and his mother would make a homemade pie of some kind; his dad taught the boys to ride their bikes on this street; Dean patched up his first rust-bucket in that garage and learned how to play his guitar and mother's piano in that house.  
It was home.

Dean was startled from his thoughts when Cas popped up in front of the car door, peering in the window.

"Are you coming?" Cas asked.

Mary peeked through the curtains when she heard the Impala pull up.

Still keeping herself hidden, she closed the chamber of her pistol and stayed quiet.

When the trenchcoated man suddenly appeared on the other side of the car, Mary tucked the gun into the back of her jeans and rushed to the kitchen.

She threw open a cabinet and pulled the flask she kept hidden at the back of the top shelf down and ran to the door.

Halfway to the door, Dean put a hand on Cas' shoulder and stopped in front of him.

"Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, you _said_ that my mom got out of hunting to keep us safe." Dean sighed and slumped his shoulders, staring down at his feet and circling his arms around him.

Cas tilted his head to get a better look at Dean's face.

"What's worrying you?"

Dean shook his head before glancing up at Cas, a dejected look in his eyes.

"I just don't want to bring any more pain on my family."

Cas straightened and held Dean's shoulders tight while looking directly into his eyes.

"Dean Winchester, you have never brought your family any pain. All you've ever done is sacrifice yourself for them and have tried to make your parents proud." Castiel shook the young man a few times. "Don't you _ever_ let anyone, including yourself, tell you any different; do you hear me?"

Dean nodded his head softly.

"Yeah, okay."

The angel dropped his hands and nodded before continuing up the walk.

When the two men reached the entrance, Dean lifted his hand to knock when the door was thrown open and both companions were met with a face full of water.

Mary watched as her son sputtered but didn't sizzle when the Holy Water hit him. SHe turned to the other man, who just stood there and calmly wiped the water from his eyes before extending his hand in greeting.

"Mrs. Winchester. My name is Castiel."

No sooner had Dean regained his bearings than his mother had slapped Castiel.

A hard, loud, painful slap.

"Mom!" Dean was livid. His mother had just slapped an Angel of the Lord.

And what did Cas do?

"Ma'am, perhaps we should go inside and explain?"


	9. The Truth Is Hard To Swallow

Chapter 10: The Truth Is Hard To Swallow

**Lawrence, Kansas September 29, 2005**

When they were all inside, (Dean had been pulled in and Mary stood herself between the two men) Castiel closed the door and sighed before facing Dean's mother.

"Would you like to get some ice for that hand before or after we explain?"

Mary didn't like the dark-haired man's tone one bit but he was right. Her hand felt like it'd hit a brick wall and was starting to swell and bruise.

Instead of answering, she held Dean behind her with her good hand and backed down the hall and into the kitchen, watching the stranger (_Didn't he call himself "Castiel"?) _follow.

The ex-hunter backed up, pushing her son against the counter across from the refrigerator and stared daggers at the other man, who had busied himself with getting ice cubes from the freezer and placing them in a plastic baggy (_Where'd he find that?_) and wrapping it in a dishcloth.

"Who are you?" Mary growled out.

"Maybe your son should tell you, since you obviously don't trust me," said "Castiel" a bit too calmly as he held out the ice pack.

"Mom."

Dean laid the hand his mother didn't have a vise-like grip on her shoulder and felt her startle but never turn her head from Cas.

"Mom," Dean tried again, gentle as he could be. "How about we go sit down and I take a look at your hand?"

After a moment, his mother released his arm and began to cradle her injured arm close to her chest but remained glowering at his friend.

_Still progress, _Dean thought to himself.

Dean put his arm around his mother and took the pack from Cas' hand before jerking his head slightly, towards the living room.

Taking the cue, Cas left the room.

Dean squeezed his arm a bit tighter around his mother.

"You said you were with a friend." She didn't sound angry or happy or anything; no emotion whatsoever.

_Aw, crap._

"I never lied, mom." Dean sighed. "Come on."

Mary followed her eldest into the living room with her head spinning. All sorts of questions buzzed around her mind. Everything from _Why does this man look like Dean's hallucinations? _to _How'd he find out about me?_

The man, "Castiel", sat in the chair by the window with a cup of coffee in his hands (_Where'd _that _come from?_) and was staring straight at her.

Dean led her to the couch and kneeled in front of her before he began rummaging through his pockets.

Mary watched as her son's "friend" held out and ace bandage that seemed to appear from thing air.

Dean gratefully took it and proceeded to wrap her hand. When he finished, he placed the ice on the top and sat next to her.

"Now," started the man, who still hadn't stopped his creepy staring. "Where would you like us to start?"

Dean held her wrist and rubbed soothingly, as he usually did when he knew she was worried or nervous, but she shook him off.

"The very beginning," Mary replied with more ice in her voice than on her hand.

Cas glanced at Dean (who was looking at his mother with as much worry as she had for him when he had left for Johns Hopkins) before setting his cup on the coffee table between them.

"Dean, I am out of coffee. How about you go make us all some?"

Dean gave him a quizzical look but stood, cup in hand, and left to the kitchen.

The two were silent until Dean was out of earshot, the ex-hunter breaking the silence first: "How did you know who I was?"

Castiel clasped his hands together and leaned forward.

"I know this is hard to believe but I need you to listen carefully. Dean will be back any minute."

Mary straightened her back and frowned.

"This is not the way history was suppsoed to go. In November 1983, you were supposed to die and your sons were supposed to be raised as hunters." Cas paused to make sure Mary was following and was mildly taken aback to see her eyes wide and teeth clenched. "In May of 2008, Sam was killed and Dean sold his soul to bring him back."

Mary slumped back onto the couch. The angel continued to narrate the story as simply as he could, only naming himself as "the angel that saved Dean" before getting to the Mark of Cain.

"Dean felt that he had no choice." Cas tried to comfort Mary, who now had both hands over her mouth in horror. "Everything he'd ever fought for was unraveling around him and he thought it was the only way. I was sent back here to give everyone a second chance."

"What-" Mary tried to choke out. "What, um, what about Sam and Dean? The ones that already had to go through all that?" She quickly blinked away a few tears that were threatening to escape.

Cas breathed through his nose slowly, trying to decide whether or not to tell her.

For the first time since they sat down, he looked away from the woman.

"Sam and Dean were sent back with me." He felt more than heard Mary tense. "The memories of their past lives were locked away and their consciouses were placed in their bodies in 1983." Cas looked back up at Mary, who was choking back sobs, and quickly looked away again. "They don't remember anything from before and they grew up as normal as could be but at night..." Cas ran a hand through his hair.

"When they sleep, the walls around their minds crack a little. They have 'nightmares' where they remember bits and pieces of their pasts." Cas looked directly into her eyes. "I swear to you, I've tried to keep Dean oblivious to all of this but he accidentally stumbled on an attack and I had no choice but to step in. I haven't told him anything more than where I came from; he has no idea who he or Sam is."

Mary tried to speak but only moans came out before she doubled over into sobs.

Mary felt arms wrap around her but couldn't do anything more than weep.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," she cried, clinging to whoever was holding her.

Dean had just finished pouring the coffee when he heard his mother sobbing.

Dean set the pot on the counter and rushed to his mother, now on her knees in tears, and kneeled at her side, embracing her tightly.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." Her voice was barely audible.

Dean glared at Castiel, who had gotten onto his knees next to him, but softened his gaze when he saw the sorrow in the angel's eyes.

"Cas," Dean tried his best to keep his voice level. "What did you tell her?"


	10. Nightmares

Chapter 11: Nightmares

Dean was frustrated to say the least when Cas refused to tell him what he had told Mary other than "the Truth" but he let it go so he could try to calm her down.

After a few minutes of soothing her, Dean had been able to calm her enough to carry her to her (and his father's) bedroom to rest.

When Cas still wouldn't explain, Dean decided to go to his old room and try to get some sleep, since he hadn't slept at all on the drive over.

Mary woke an hour or so later and sat up slowly on the bed. She rubbed her eyes and let the newly-reconstructed settle in her head.

"Are you alright?" Castiel asked from the door.

Mary looked up and clasped her hands in her lap, leaning forward so her weight was on her knees.

"You never did tell me who you were," she stated matter-of-factly.

The man closed his eyes before sighing.

"When Sam and Dean were sent back here for a second chance at life," he began, sitting next to Mary. "It was decided that they would both need guardians. Of course, Dean's guardian would be the angel that had protected him for the past 6 years."

Mary felt dizzy. _I hit an angel,_ was all she could think.

"The other," he continued. "Was a bit harder to decide but it was finally concluded that an angel that had wronged Sam also deserved a second chance and was given charge of Sam as penance."

Mary leaned back on the bed and closed her eyes. _Not one but _two _creatures have been living in my home._

"My brother thought it would be a good idea to stay hidden and only show himself in dire circumstances while I knew that Dean would require guidance." She could't see Castiel, as her eyes were closed, but she could hear the... _Could it be considered pride of regret? _in his voice.

Just then, Mary heard a small whimper escape from down the hall and was up like a shot, Castiel close behind her.

She rounded the corner into Dean's bedroom and saw Dean's face pressed into his pillow but obviously in a grimace and crying out softly in his sleep.

"He's remembering," Castiel said, by way of explanation.

"Is there any way to wake him?"

The angel just shook his head, sadly.

"Show me," Mary steeled herself. "I need to know what Dean's been through."

Cas almost corrected her by saying he'd already told her but thought better of it.

Instead, he took her hand and led her to the chair that was still by the bed and motioned for her to sit.

She sat and Castiel placed a hand on Dean but hesitated before touching two fingers to Mary's forehead.

"You must understand, no matter what you see you can not make yourself known. If you are noticed by anyone in the memory, it could spin off into a nightmare even worse than the memory itself."

Cas watched as Mary nodded her head but her gaze never left her writhing son.

Mary tensed when Castiel touched her forehead and she felt the rush of energy as the world around her became dark and muggy, like a dungeon, but smelled like a slaughterhouse.

She felt her son's guardian angel put a hand on her shoulder.

"We need to go. You shouldn't see this." He sounded angry, afraid and anguished all at once.

Mary shook her head and shrugged him off.

Mary's eyes finally adjusted to the dim light and could barely make out a figure chained to a table in the center of the cell.

She started forward but halted when the door was thrown open by a man being thrown through it.

"Dean," she whispered.

Dean, who had been thrown against the door hard enough to shove it open, was crumpled on the floor, bloody and groaning in figure (Mary couldn't identify it any more than to say that it was vaguely humanoid and the most horrifying thing she'd ever seen) strode in and kicked Dean before leaning down and soothingly rubbing his hair.

"Come on, Dean. You can do it; or would you rather be back on the rack?"

Castiel's hand clamped down on Mary's arm: "We need to go. _Now._"

Mary took a step closer and saw that her son held a small blade in his hand.

The young man struggled to his feet as he attempted to mumble out negatives and pleas of mercy through the blood in his mouth.

Mary felt her stomach twirl.

"Mary," the angel pleaded. "You shouldn't see this."

Mary watched as the monster goaded Dean, alternating between abusing him (physically and verbally) and praising him, to use the blade he carried.

Mary recognised it from the few "normal" hunting trips her father had taken her on. The blade was used to strip the skin from your prey.

Dean held the blade close to the skin of the woman, who was now begging.

Tears ran down Dean's cheeks and stuttered "I'm sorry"'s came in rivers from his mouth as he began to cut.

Mary stumbled back into Castiel, her hands up to her mouth.

Cas caught Mary as she fell back into him and immediately transported them back to reality, still holding Mary, who slumped to the floor.

Cas held her and realized she was too shocked to do anything more than shake and stare at her son, who had grown very still and stiff on the bed.

**End Notes:**

_You guys are going to _love _(or despise, whatever) who Sam's guardian angel is. I have to rewatch a few episodes so I can make sure I get his actions and reactions right, so please be patient with me when I introduce him. We don't have 9 seasons of him like we do the boys._

_I'm not sure when I'll have more but I promise to continue writing as soon as I get a minute to sit down._

_Please send in comments and suggestions. It really helps me with ideas and encouragment. And if something's unclear or unexplained entirely, _please_ let me know so I can make it better._


	11. Very Important Author's Note

Hey, guys!

Okay, firstly: sorry for not updting recently. Life's been nutty for me.

Secondly (and the actual reason I'm updating with this instead of a chapter): This site is really, _really _frustrating and complicated and I can't do what my story needs. _So, _I've switched over to Archive Of Our Own.

On ao3, all you have to do is look up my username, the same as I use here. TheAngelThyla

The story has continued on both fics! Hurry and catch up!

Thanks for being patient and understanding.

Sincerely,

The annoying author lady.


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